When black men protect black women
Overlooking the larger request from the #ProtectBlackWomen hashtag after the Will Smith slap
Writer’s note October 13: Jeezus. I wrote this post much, much earlier than I knew anything about her writing a book. I loved the “Will” memoir and specifically remember Will Smith saying he pulled out content about Jada because she wanted his book to be about HIM. But “Worthy” is … I’m done defending this woman. I tried hard. I’ve wiped my hands of it. Not even Afeni Shakur talks about Tupac this much, and that fight seems especially pointless now.
It was way too hot outside on the West Side of Chicago, and for some reason, I decided not to eat ahead of time. I was excited to hang out with a friend and go to an Aaliyah concert. Because I’m short (5'3) and she’s the height of your average model, I ditched her to try to get a better view. She and her two equally tall cousins were fine where they were standing and could see the stage. All I could see was butts and backs while my teenaged body just wanted room to do the choreography to “One In a Million.”
While DJ Kool was rapping “Let Me Clear My Throat” as the opening act, I wiggled my way to a great spot toward the front. I was dancing and singing along — until the heat decided to be a hater. I blinked repeatedly trying to snap out of it but felt the outside world swirling around me. This was the first and only time I’d ever felt like I was going to faint. I went from thinking everything was spinning around me to knowing it was me who was spinning.
Recommended Read: “Chris Rock: Women-hating men will never understand Will Smith ~ Why ‘Selective Outrage’ further confirms Chris Rock is bitter about women”
“She’s about to faint,” a man’s voice said. “Move back so she doesn’t fall on us.”
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Those two sentences made my body start cooperating. A grown man seeing a teenaged girl clearly in a vulnerable state and getting ready to faint, and then choosing to tell his friends to move away from me let me know, “You’re on your own. Get it together.”
I still don’t know how in the world I made it out of the crowd. I just turned around, put one foot in front of the other and very slowly walked toward a nearby curb. I sat near another group of men, and I could feel their eyes on me. Not even one asked, “Are you OK?” Again, my brain said, “You’re on your own. Get it together.” I breathed a few times, looked around for the nearest food vendor or water fountain, found one, and guzzled down about a pitcher’s worth of water. Just like that, I was back to me! I stayed where I was on that curb, sitting and snapping my fingers throughout the rest of the Aaliyah concert.
It was a weird moment for me. I did find my friend and her two cousins about an hour later. I told them what happened, but by that time, it was spilled milk and we went on to the next thing. (I have no idea when I finally did eat something. I’m sure I did though.)